


Unspoken

by Thaly



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Lots of kissing and fluff, M/M, This was supposed to be smut but I'm a chicken?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thaly/pseuds/Thaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>None of them can remember the first time they touched. It started as something casual until it stopped being so. Until casual started having a meaning. Until Ronan looked at Adam only for Adam to look back at him. Until words were no longer needed.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icka/gifts).



> Hi everyone :)
> 
> This is my first time writing in English in this fandom, except for that tiny poetic fanfic I wrote right after finishing reading TRK when I was so full of fuzzy feelings it sort of came out by itself. This time is... with intent. So please be gentle? Anyway, I hope you do enjoy it. It's probably just a self-indulgent nonsense, but I just _needed_ to write my kids like this. Please, feel free to point out any typos :)
> 
> Also... this was supposed to be a drabble. But... Pynch were staring at me like "come on, you can do better than a drabble" and I never back off from a challenge and things got out of control.
> 
> And since I can't do something I actually enjoy without sharing it with you, bae, this one is for you too <3
> 
> So a little bit of context:  
>  _Cheng insisted on taking Opal with him and Blue to a vintage shop in DC, while Gansey has lunch with the other Ganseys. Barely a week after… everything. The little hooved miracle shrieked in delight, since she seems to adore Blue, and left with them, flowered rain boots covering her hooves, courtesy of Henry. And then… this._

The way Ronan kisses Adam is always halfway through worship and hunger. Soft. Slow. Deep —both physical and with meaning. Ronan has never been good with words. Not as he’s good with gestures, with touches, with kisses; allowing his body to express everything bigger than anything words can convey.

None of them can remember the first time they touched. It started as something casual until it stopped being so. Until casual started having a meaning. Until Ronan looked at Adam only for Adam to look back at him. Until words were no longer needed.

The first time they kissed, on Ronan’s birthday, it was _I’m so glad you are here, I’m so glad you are you, I’m so glad you are real_.

The second time, later that night, Adam kissed Ronan. And he was not good yet at hiding meaning within a kiss, within a hundred. He managed, though; after all, he’s a fast learner. He said it back. _I’m so glad you are here, I’m so glad you are you, I’m so glad this is real_. But also _thank you_ mixed with a hunger different to any he had known before, a craving for his touch, his skin, his warmth, his lips and _himhimhim_. It was a _this is not a game, promise_. It was Ronan sliding his hands through his body, a _I know, fuck, this is real_.

They are both better at it now.

Every time Ronan looks at Adam when they are alone, the corners of his mouth quirk up with the hint of a smile. Adam looks back at him, a soft smile on his lips, made of suppressed laughter. Because the storm has passed. They are alive.

Ronan is broken. Adam is broken too. But their broken pieces fit together in a way that, perhaps, will help them heal faster.

Adam doesn’t think he will ever get used to Ronan touching him. Nor does he want to. Ronan’s hands on his body make him feel alive, awaken, wanted. Ronan’s touch is like a prayer, hands careful and full of worship. And Adam wants to give him everything he prays for.

He does.

(He tries, because he doesn’t completely know how to).

(But he’s a fast learner).

His hands touch Ronan’ skin, softly, running up his neck. He cups his cheek in his palm and brushes a thumb over his cheekbone. Adam feels Ronan’s breath catch at that small gesture and he smiles. Fond. Scared. Known, in the way Ronan looks at him.

Adam rises a bit on the tip of his toes so he can press a soft and chaste kiss to Ronan’s lips. Ronan’s hands are underneath Adam’s t-shirt, tracing the skin with his fingers, as if trying to memorize it. He sighs into Adam’s lips, brushing their noses together and Adam kisses him again.

The way Adam kisses Ronan is always halfway through tender and desperate. Sometimes as soft as he feared he would break Ronan the same he can break anything in his life. Sometimes as rough as he wanted to cut himself in all of his former sharp edges, and remain there for eternity. Adam has always been careful with words. He’s also careful with kisses, with touches, allowing his body to express everything he doesn’t dare to convey through words.

Not yet.

Ronan slides his fingers down Adam’s spine, a wordless promise of something they both know.

 _I’m here_.

 _I know_ , Adam replies through caressing Ronan’s chin with his lips, softly.

No words needed.

When Adam buries his face on Ronan’s neck, lightly brushing his nose to the bruises his own possessed hands left there, it is more of an _I’m so sorry_. And when Ronan encircles his lean waist in his arms, pulling him tighter, it is an _I know. You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t you_. Adam closes his eyes, guilt and everything he can’t put into words tight in his chest, and presses a soft kiss over each of the bruises.

Ronan’s breath catches, yet again. His hands back to tracing Adam’s skin. Careful and full of intent. Memorizing each of the bumps of his spine with his fingers alone. Adam finds himself trembling because of that soft and tender touch, losing his breath because nobody ever touched him like that. Like he was worth of care, of worship. Like he was wanted. And he presses himself closer to Ronan, finding softness and warmth where there used to be rough edges. Adam’s hands are fisted tightly around Ronan’s tank shirt, the impossible intensity of everything he’s feeling rendering him powerful and powerless at the same time.

Adam is not used to being touched like he matters. But there is no other way in which Ronan can touch him.

So when Adam bites softly in the tender spot where Ronan’s neck and shoulder meet, he hopes the _fuck, Lynch, you impossibly wonderful asshole I’m so glad you are alive_ is clear. Because even if words were needed, he’s not sure he can manage them right now. Ronan takes in a sharp breath as a response, and something that might be laughter makes his whole body tremble, before he hugs Adam even tighter and buries is face on Adam’s hair, breathing him in like dear air. A wordless _me too_ that is followed by a soft _I’m glad to be with you_ in the form of Ronan’s lips brushing over the edge of Adam’s good ear.

Adam lets out a sigh, heat surging up his body, and presses even closer to Ronan. _Always_. A promise that feels too heavy on the silent air of his tiny apartment over St. Agnes.

They are made of unbreakable promises that were never pronounced. Of words that don’t need to be said and raw feelings they are slowly learning how to express.

Ronan breaks away from Adam just barely enough to bring his hands up to Adam’s face and cradle his cheeks with the palms of his hands, warm and heat and _that_. Ronan looks at Adam like he never wants to stop doing so. Adam looks back like he never wants him to stop doing so.

And then, they are kissing again. More like desperation and hunger than worship and tenderness.

_Want you so fucking much._

_Need you closer._

_Is this okay?_

_Of course, you dumbass._

Adam feels Ronan’s smile against his own lips and allows his breathing to come out in the shape of soft laughter. His hands up to Ronan’s lacing their fingers together; then, he brings their intertwined hands to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the tip of Ronan’s index, moving his own hand so he can graze his knuckles with the slightest touch of teeth and a gentle brush of lips. _It is okay. I want you too_. And Adam sees Ronan swallow hard, then nod.

But Ronan doesn’t move; his expression mixed between awe and disbelief. The expression of someone that wanted something for so long he can’t quite believe it is real once it’s happening. So Adam lowers the hand they have intertwined and steps back, a little closer to the mattress, gently dragging Ronan with him. Pushes him slowly on the chest with the other hand, until Ronan half falls on his bed, and then straddles his lap, one knee at each side of Ronan.

Adam feels his cheeks heat up just from the way Ronan is looking at him. Like _you are a fucking miracle, Parrish_. He looks back at Ronan with a mix of insecurity and smugness, a _nervous already, Lynch?_ that makes him smirk in response.

So, they kiss again.

This time it’s something in between. Softer than desperation and hunger. Too rough to be tender. It might be worship, still. Mutual. Deep. Unending. Because Adam’s fingers start following the lines of Ronan’s tattoo with a reverent expression. Ronan’s hands start lifting Adam’s t-shirt, until he has to stop retracing the tattoo to lift his arms above his head and help with the task.

And then, against all odds, Adam looks away. He looks at an undetermined spot at the wall behind Ronan. Self-conscious. Scarred. Ashamed.

Ashamed of the scars and bruises that will never completely fade. Patches of darker skin that bloom all over his torso. But he doesn’t feel the need to cover. Not anymore. It’s not something to be ashamed of, it’s not his fault. It’s something he has endured. Something he has survived. That storm, too, has passed. And he survived it.

He doesn’t look at Ronan, though. Not until he feels the gentle and soft touch of his fingertips on his collarbone, sliding them carefully over his skin.

“Fuck, Parrish.”

The first words any of them pronounced in a long time. They come out hoarse, breathless. Adam bites his own lip, in the foolish hope of biting back the blushing crawling its way up his cheeks.

Because Ronan is looking at him with adoration and hunger. With worship and want. With love. His fingers now caressing his way up his neck, the edge of his jaw, his cheek. _You are so beautiful_. And Adam feels like he’s going to choke on his own uneven breath.

Because Ronan is mourning and broken and looks at him like he is worth something.

Because Adam is ever worried and broken and looks back like he wants to be.

So when he brings a hand to the back of Ronan’s head, feeling the calming sensation of his buzzed hair against his palm, Adam leans in to kiss him again. They don’t need words. They never did. Never will. Because words are too heavy. Too tangled to be pronounced.

So it’s better to take action.

Adam presses closer to Ronan again, and somehow they manage to end up lying on the mattress. Adam on top of Ronan; one of his hands on the mattress now to lift his weight from him. Ronan’s arms around Adam’s waist, keeping him close regardless.

And they kiss. Again. Like they will never grow tired of it. They probably won’t. With a hunger that means _I need you_ and a desperation that means _me too_. With worship, saying _I love you_ even though maybe they don’t need to. With a tenderness that says _I love you too. I do_.

And for Adam is easy to say it like this. To acknowledge with actions how much Ronan means to him. Easier than putting his broken and tangled thoughts into words. Being with Ronan is easy. Allowing himself to have this is the easiest thing he’s ever done.

Because _fuck, don’t ever wanna lose you_ and _you never will_.

And _I’m shitless scared right now_. And _it’s okay, me too_.

Because words are easy when they survive in silence. When they _do_ , instead of _talk_.

Because they can be scared together. Good scared this time.

Ronan’s hand on Adam’s back feel light like feathers, while he draws a constellation of kisses over the freckles of Adam’s shoulders. Adam buries his face on his shoulder, his heart erratic; his breath catching; his nails digging on Ronan’s skin.

Adam’s hands reach the hem of Ronan’s tank shirt, sliding down his back. Answers with a playful smile the groan he lets out for having lips abandoning skin.

“Fuck, Lynch.”

And he can be happy just at the sound of Ronan’s soft laughter.

Because they’ve seen each other shirtless before, time and time again —Adam has seen Ronan shirtless even more times that he can count, in Monmouth, sleeping on his floor. Because that first night Adam travelled all the way through Ronan’s tattoo. Learning every curve. Memorizing every hook. But now it’s different. Now he can slide his hands on the smooth skin all over Ronan’s torso. So Adam leans in and presses a kiss over his chest. Barely a brush of lips.

Hungry hands.

Heartbeats out of control.

Soft kisses. Gentle bites.

Everything they need to say, unspoken. Expressed in actions.

After, Ronan holds Adam hand and takes it to his lips. His blue eyes burning on Adam’s while he kisses the center of his palm; the pulse on his wrist. _You good?_

Adam leans closer to Ronan, until his cheek rests against his chest. Intertwines their fingers and reaches up. Presses a kiss to Ronan’s neck, over the faded bruises his own hands left there. _I’m good_. Buries the face on his shoulder, tightening their fingers together. _You?_

Ronan lets out a sigh, his chest moving while he breathes in. An arm around Adam, pressing him tighter against his side. He breathes out. _I will be_.

After all, they are still mourning, they are still grieving —Aurora, Noah, Cabeswater.

They are still learning.

**Author's Note:**

> So! If you made it down here, I hope you liked the fanfic :)
> 
> I know this is a bit too fluffy to swallow but... I have this headcanon of mine that basically is: Ronan is always and forever gonna be so soft with Adam that it pains my heart; and, while their relationship is still new, they would both be super soft and cute (until later on Adam has a bad day at work or something and they have rough sex in the shower and everything becomes dirty and... intense). But yeah... that ^^
> 
> This was going to be smutty and whatnot but... it's my first time writing in English something... longish? and I was quite insecure about it, but I hope it's hinted well enough :3 
> 
> So, again, thank you for reading and have a good day :)
> 
>  **PS for the bae:** So... don't kill me maybe?  <3


End file.
